Empty Houses
by briboucher
Summary: Six months after the Giant War, Leo tries to rebuild New Rome. Potential!Leyna if you look really really hard. Very angsty oneshot. TW-Death. (I'm sorry I'm sorry I am trash)


_Bang. Bang. Bang. _

The sound of the hammer rings through the empty ship. Leo's supposed to be repairing one of the many gear systems in the controls for the Argo II. What he's really doing is all but pulverizing it, smashing away like if he pounds hard enough he might forget the only thing he's been thinking for six months.

Because he can't get her image out of his head. The cinnamon toast- braid whipping in the wind as she rushed towards him. The smile on her face as she closed the distance between them. And then the cry of pain, and the dagger slipping from her side. The monster, an empousai, smiling. The silvery-golden ichor, the blood of the gods, staining the ground as the light left Calypso's eyes and she whispered, "You came back," and never spoke again.

It's his fault. All of it. Why didn't he move faster? Why didn't he kill that monster sooner? His friends, they were far away, fighting other monsters, life-or-death battles of their own. He couldn't cry for help. He could only watch as Calypso died. As so many people died.

Now, after, he's started pounding away at one of Jason's old punching bags. It felt better, at first. He imagined he was punching Gaea in the face. But no matter how strong he gets, how many swings he takes at that bag, Calypso is gone, and there is nothing he could do. Nothing except help rebuild the ruins of New Rome- another one of his failures. He'd started small. First, he rebuilt the little cafe. Reyna had almost smiled when he'd done that- she'd murmured something about liking the hot chocolate- but Leo had hardly noticed. Since then he'd fixed most of New Rome- all that remained was Reyna's office, the fountain on the main street, and the gaping hole in side of the Argo II. Leo is putting that one off. He likes to keep it there, a reminder of the friends he'd lost. Hunters of Artemis, Greeks and Romans, so, so many bodies littering the earth. Jason, his best friend, who died protecting him, was the first one. Then Piper. Then Frank. Then Percy and Annabeth, together, like it should be, in a mistaken attempt at being Gaea's sacrifices. Then, finally, Hazel, the girl he'd maybe-sort-of liked, the girl who'd led him through Pasiphae's labyrinth at the doors of death, through the ruins of the House of Hades. Leo misses her, he really does. He misses all of them. He's the only one left of the seven.

Why is he such a failure?

Leo wipes his face with his arm. The air is humid down in the hull of the Argo II, and maybe that's because Leo keeps accidentally overheating and setting himself on fire, but whatever. He wants to be anywhere but here. Maybe he should go fix Reyna's office. . .

No. Whenever Leo and Reyna cross paths, Reyna avoids him. She doesn't want to talk to the boy who could do nothing to save his friends. She doesn't want to talk to the boy who helplessly watched Hazel and Jason and Frank and so many others, Greeks as well as Romans, die She doesn't want to do anything but instruct him on how to rebuild the city he burned.

There's a knock at the door.

"Leo?"

He turns. There she is, in all her regal Roman glory. The glint of her golden armor reflects in the gear circuit he's tinkering. "Hey, Reyna. What can I do for you?"

Reyna regards the circuit coolly. "You've made excellent progress on your ship," she says. Leo tries to act like he's actually been working on it. "I hate to bother you, but my office. . .I have so much paperwork to do. We still have to elect a new praetor. . ." She trails off, and Leo watches guiltily as her face falls. "The point is," she begrudgingly continues, "I really _do _need my office to be fixed. Is there any chance you could start soon?"

Leo wipes the oil off his hands with a rag. He eyes her warily. She's never, _never _put in a request for something to be fixed immediately. "How soon is soon?"

"Well. . ."

"I can start now, if you'd like," he says. "I have to appraise the damage first. I might need some new supplies, too."

"Sounds good."

Leo follows her through the streets without saying a word. It's who he's become, the silent repair boy, nothing more. He doesn't want anyone to even notice he's there. If they do, they might notice how much of a failure he is.

They might notice all the empty houses, and how their lack of residents is his fault.


End file.
